


Albion is doomed

by Allemande



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, CrazyOld!Merlin, Gen, Humor, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Right,” said the old man mockingly. “Let’s assume that I’m one and a half millennia old and you’ve come back from the dead after all this time, and I’m supposed to say oh yay, instead of, you took your bloody time, you bastard.”<br/>Featuring CrazyOld!Merlin and SmugBecauseHe'sALegend!Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albion is doomed

“What do you think you’re doing, looking like that?”  
  
The young man who had just entered the pub stared at the old drunk at the bar, who had just hailed him and was now vaguely waving his whiskey glass in the direction of the door.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Oh, well, that doesn’t fit,” said the old man. Then he sniggered to himself. “Politeness was never your forte, no, no, it wasn’t.”  
  
The young man frowned, looking around at the other people in the pub. There were quite a few shrugs and apologetic smiles, communicating ‘never mind him, he means no harm’ or ‘the rest of our town is nice enough’.  
  
However, it looked like the young man wasn’t easily scared off, as he went to sit down on a barstool next to the old man.  
  
“Sorry if my looks offend you,” he said.  
  
The old man chuckled. “Offend not so much me… I mean, not so much as offend me… oh, I hate modern English, don’t you?”  
  
The young man smiled, and as the other pub regulars looked on in wonder, he held out his hand.  
  
“I’m Pete,” he said.  
  
“And I’m the Queen of Sheba,” the old man growled, then burst out laughing. After a while, his laugh having turned into a cough, and the cough having subsided into a wheeze, he appeared to notice the other man’s outstretched hand. He stared at it for a moment, then took it.  
  
There was a huge blast as, simultaneously, the old man dropped his glass and the young man fell off his chair.  
  
A minor kerfuffle ensued as everyone assured themselves that the young man was all right and the bar owner came around the bar to sweep up the broken glass. When everything had calmed down again, they suddenly realized the old man had scarpered.  
  
“God’s teeth,” exclaimed the young man and ran out after him.  
  
***  
  
“Wait!”  
  
Although the old man looked very old indeed, he seemed to be remarkably quick on his feet.  
  
“Don’t run away! I need to speak to you!”  
  
“You’re not even here,” the old man managed to gasp while jogging down the main street. “You’re in my mind, and you’re not allowed in there!”  
  
In the end, however, the young man caught up with him, and they both collapsed on a bench opposite the church.  
  
“What are you doing wearing that _face_ ,” said the old man again.  
  
“Merlin…”  
  
“Oh, shut up. Who’s called _Merlin_ these days? It’s Martin.”  
  
“Merlin,” insisted the young man. “It’s _me_.”  
  
“Yes, I can see that it’s you,” snapped the old man, finally turning to face him. “And yet, it’s impossible. You’re dead. You were never even alive. You’re a legend.”  
  
At this, the young man looked rather pleased. “I am, aren’t I? A _legend_.”  
  
“Oh, shut up,” said the old man again. Then he frowned, and looked at the other man more closely. “Always thought you’d be pleased to hear that, you twat. ”  
  
 ***  
  
The young man followed as the old drunk shuffled through the gate and opened the door to his house. Every now and then the old man waved his hands at him as though trying to swat a fly. The young man, however, persisted.  
  
“All right,” grumbled the old man as he sat down heavily in an armchair that was at least 19th century. “Point taken, I drink too much. But this is just cruel.”  
  
“I’m not a hallucination,” the young man insisted. He scratched his head. “If anything, _I’m_ hallucinating _you_.”  
  
“Oh come off it!” barked the old man. “You are so not! I’m real as anything, I –” He tried to get up and promptly fell back into his chair. “Come to think of it, maybe I _am_ a hallucination. That would explain a lot.” He gave a huge belch, then sniggered to himself for a while.  
  
The young man rolled his eyes. “Let’s just assume for the moment that we’re both real,” he suggested.  
  
“Right,” said the old man mockingly. “Let’s assume that I’m one and a half millennia old and you’ve come back from the dead after all this time, and I’m supposed to say oh yay, instead of, you took your bloody time, you bastard.” He paused, staring at the other man. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you get out of my mind and let me sleep a little.” And he settled himself more comfortably in his armchair. Within five minutes, he had started snoring.  
  
The young man sighed.  
  
***  
  
“Ugh, you’re still here,” commented the old man as he woke up the next morning and found the young man sitting opposite him, reading a book.  
  
“Reading up on the so-called Arthurian legend.” The young man looked rather smug. “Love how you’re an old man throughout as though you were born that way.” He turned the book by 90 degrees. “Pretty ugly drawings of you, too.”  
  
The old man grumbled, heaving himself out of his chair. “Right,” he said. “I’m going to have a shower and get cleaned up. If you’re still here after that, I’m going to start worrying seriously about my sanity.”  
  
The young man shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said and returned to his book.  
  
Shower and clean-up completed, the old man came back, saw the young man still sitting there, and groaned. The young man, however, just smiled.  
  
“Make us some coffee, will you, Merlin?”  
  
Merlin glared at Arthur.  
  
***  
  
They’d had coffee, and some semblance of breakfast, and were now aimlessly strolling through the town. Merlin, Arthur noticed, walked without a cane and seemingly without any difficulty. He did, however, take a rest on a bench when they arrived in the main square.  
  
“So explain to me how this works,” said Arthur, sitting beside him. “How am I here?”  
  
Merlin snorted. “Still not entirely prepared to believe that you are.”  
  
“Merlin…”  
  
“Fine.” Merlin looked him up and down, his eyes still narrowed, his face still in a frown. “Reincarnation.”  
  
“Come again?”  
  
“Reincarnation,” Merlin shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Makes more sense than just having you reappear in the present with your old memories. I mean, you wouldn’t even have known how to use the internet.”  
  
“Do you?” Arthur smiled.  
  
“Shut up. I invented the internet.”  
  
“No you didn’t.”  
  
“No, I didn’t.” For the first time, Merlin smiled a little.  
  
***  
  
“So how about you?” Arthur asked as they continued their walk. “You’ve just been… around this whole time? What have you been doing?”  
  
Merlin shrugged. “Biding my time. Lived. Traveled. Got married a lot.”  
  
“Married,” said Arthur incredulously. “You.”  
  
“Yes, me,” said Merlin defensively. “And had kids.”  
  
“Kids,” said Arthur, in the same tone. Merlin, for some reason, looked like he was trying very hard to remember something.  
  
“Martin, have you heard the news?” It was Linda-from-the-grocery-store, apparently having abandoned her shop in order to run through town and talk to anyone she could find.  
  
 “The Queen has abdicated and none of the other royals are stepping forward to take the crown and the Prime Minister is to undergo a vote of no confidence it’s all connected to that tax scandal apparently it’s a total power vacuum they’re saying!” She said all this in one breath.  
  
Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look.  
  
“Believe I’m back now?” Arthur muttered.  
  
***  
  
They were back in the pub, having watched Linda’s story being confirmed by the BBC. They weren’t alone; the pub was crowded for this time of day, and people were either staring at the TV or muttering among themselves. They could hear bits and bobs of the conversations around them; wild speculation, for the most part, but there was real fear there, too.  
  
“I liked Elizabeth,” said Merlin, finally. “We went on this great fox hunt once.”  
  
Arthur snorted. “Bet you were a real asset to the hunting party.”  
  
“Oi!” Merlin glared at him. Then he turned back to the TV.  
  
“So I guess you’re going to want to go and fill the power vacuum,” he said after a while, sounding rather weary. “I suppose this means there’s a war coming.”  
  
Arthur frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that.”  
  
“Well, what else would we need you for? Not to fix the tax problem. It’s not as though you were ever any bloody good with numbers.”  
  
Arthur glared at Merlin, now, and was about to retort, when Merlin suddenly banged his glass on the table with force and exclaimed, “Isaac!”  
  
Arthur smiled faintly at the people staring at them, then raised an eyebrow at Merlin.  
  
“Sorry,” said Merlin. “Just remembered my thirteenth son’s name.” And he threw back his head and laughed.  
  
Arthur shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “So let me get this straight. I’ve been reincarnated in order to save Britain from some war that is yet to come. My knights are all long gone, and so is my queen. All I’ve got going for me is an old legend and a completely deranged, drunken sorceror at my side.”  
  
“Looks like it,” Merlin grinned, already signaling the barman for another drink.  
  
“Albion is doomed,” Arthur sighed.  
  
***  
  



End file.
